The Power of the Spiral
Once in a while, as a writer, I come across a concept that makes me hate the field I’ve entered. Not because it’s offensively ridiculous. Quite the contrary; these are pieces that I aspire to produce, words and images that I would give an obsolete body part just to have the courage to conjure. Junji Ito’s Uzumaki is one of those works of art. The story, set in the fictional village of Kurôzo-Cho, is as twisted as its namesake suggests. A mind as fantastical as Ito-san’s deserves the kind of film adaptation worthy of a mad scientist. However, the task is enough to drive any director and screenwriter through a wall conceptually.
As seems pretty normal in the realm of Japanese filmography, the adaptation stays almost verbatim in tone with the manga; however, the flaws seem to etch themselves early in the film. That’s not to suggest that the film doesn’t accomplish the freakish beauty that haunts most Japanese films. But atmosphere and scenery alone does not a successful film make. The impending darkness of the film is there, the claustrophobic camera angles are in step with the restraint of the white space found in the manga. But the key element that seems to be missing from the film is the feeling that one’s body is being constricted; indeed, the very mind is becoming closed into a tightly wound set of concentric circles that tighten and constrict even the air you breathe.
However, one can’t go about bemoaning the bad if she doesn’t have the decency to highlight the good. And there is certainly a great deal of good to take away from the film. Director Higuchinsky doesn’t shy away from the disturbing and the dangerous --a sure sign that his soul’s intent was to give Ito-san’s work a reimagining that was as honourable to the man as to the work. His capacity for the dark is what actually makes the film a grimy and uncomfortable pleasure to experience. He’s not afraid to tackle the sensational assertions that Ito-san put forth --such as the hypnotism of a town’s buried history, the transmogrification of the human physique to match the filth within, and, more urgently, the deadly desire to be popular and noticed by any and everyone (leading to the accidental death of a student). I have to applaud Higuchinsky-san’s unwavering bravery. He goes for the gruesome and doesn’t shy away from the controversial --let’s be real, even intimating a tragedy in a high school is something universally cringe-worthy. His dedication to the manga denotes that he had an obligation to portray not only the death, but the grisly understanding that he died happily because he knew that he would be noticed --your life means nothing unless you’re noticed.
Higuchinsky-san’s bravery and bravado are clearly seen throughout this film. What makes it fall drastically short of the manga is that there’s a lack of urgency, a lack of a need to take one’s self away from the dire situation. The casting of Eriko Hatsume as our shy leading lady, Kirie, was a stroke of luck. She plays the coquettish Kirie-senpai with relative ease. Her male counterpart, Shichi --portrayed by Fhi Fan-- is equally impressive as a dedicated, albeit aloof, son and boyfriend. The relationship between the two is vey real, very visceral. But their ending scene is both rushed and unexpectedly cold. The resolution falls terribly short of the original manga and is the one misstep that Higuchinsky-san takes on his way to creating a gorgeous replica of the graphic (in both senses of the word) novel. There are also a few drastic deletions that make the film seem hurried, make the intent seem overambitious. Transition sequences are watery at best and the most potent aspects of the manga go untouched --the transformation of the sluggish Katayma and his tormentor into snails (who eventually mate and lay eggs, a sequence portrayed in great detail in the manga), the reasoning behind the sudden Medusa-like tendrils that grow from the head of the popularity hungry Sekino, the extent of the spiral obsession as it turns the town into complete ruin. All aspects of the manga that succeeded in forcing the reader to bend mentally as the people bend and twist as the curse takes over have been essentially glozed over or completely disregarded in an attempt to tie everything together while making a succinct film. Unfortunately, the film just comes off as hurried and, sadly, random. Despite the twisted preface, the manga is incredibly chronological, methodical, and follows a conventional code of storytelling --problem, peak, resolution.
Despite Higuchinsky-san’s incredible eye for the macabre, his execution of this film falls disappointingly short. Hopefully, that won’t take away from the story’s brilliance in and of itself for those who wish to actually see the film. But for those who are dedicated fans of Ito-san’s work, this film will leave a bit of a bad taste in the mouth.
Overall rating: 2/4
As unexpected as her path was to loving all things weird, more unexpected is her ability to get attention for writing about the stuff. From Japanese horror and Korean melodrama, to the acid soaked animation of the 70s, Camiele White loves to talk about, debate, and watch film that teases, pleases, and fucks with the senses. Right now, she gets her jabberjaw jollies writing about Halloween costumes. If you want to give her a buzz, she can be reached at cmlewhite at gmail [dot] com.
Camiele White is a guest writer. She writes over at http://www.starcostumes.com
They are also giving away a horror scholarship for new filmmakers in the horror genre. For Rules and Information on that, you can goto: http://www.starcostumes.com/horror-scholarship/.
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